LUNCH
"Oh, for no reason. Just at random. Why did you?"
"To meet somebody who hasn't turned up. He was going to have brought a lunch-basket and we were to have picnicked down by the river. Oh, nobody I shouldn't meet. You haven't blundered into an elopement. I've got no brain for intrigue. After lunch we were going to have sketched—at least, he would have sketched and I should have talked. He's by way of teaching me. We were to have met at twelve, but I suppose he's forgotten or is doing something else. Probably he wired, but it hadn't come before I started."
"Do you paint?"
"I've got a paint-box." She indicated a diminutive Windsor and Newton and a large water-colour block lying at her feet.
"I'm sorry," he said diffidently. "I'm afraid this must be something of a disappointment."
"Not a bit." She clasped her hands on the table, leaning forward. "I've really loved our lunch-party. You listened. I've met very few people who could really listen."
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